Moments
by evilestguyever
Summary: Sometimes life just boils down to a few moments.
1. Chapter 1

**Evilestguyever: So, sorry for not posting anything for so long. And sorry for not continuing WMM. Just can't seem to write anything good enough. So here's something else. Don't own anything. This is kind of a collection of short shorts, so the chapter thing doesn't mean anything.**

**XXXXXXX**

**Confession**

Thump-Thump. Thump-Thump. He licked his lips and swallowed several times in quick succession. His breathing was fast and shallow. He stared hard at the ground, at his shuffling feet, not daring to glance up lest he lose himself again.

"I…," he started, but his voice cracked and choked and died on him. He was painfully aware of her presence. Her flowery scent saturated the air around him; it made him dizzy and light-headed. He couldn't think straight. Every breath he took made him think of her. Her eyes, her hands, her smile, her laugh. But he had to do it. He knew that he just had to say it, to tell her how he felt. To tell her just how much she meant to him. How his world just seemed so much brighter with her in it. He took a deep breath, resolved to tell her calmly, evenly and firmly, and looked up.

"I…," he started again, and then he was lost, sinking, drowning, in those bright inquisitive emerald green eyes. Someone had once told him, "A person's eyes are windows into their soul," and he realized now that it was true. He could see the compassion, the kindness, and the joy in her eyes, but most of all, the love. The love for every last living person, animal, or plant on this planet. Her love for life. And his inner turmoil went silent. Resolve and courage and strength bubbled up from somewhere within him, and he opened his mouth to try again.

"I love you." The sound of his voice snapped him out of his peaceful trance, and the dying flames of doubt and anxiety and fear within him roared to life once more. He clamped his mouth shut and his eyes darted to his feet. He bit his bottom lip, his throat suddenly dry and hoarse. Seconds crawled by agonizingly slowly; Time raked her nails across him as she inched past. He did it. He said it. He told her. It was too late to regret it now. All that's left is to look to the future. All that's left is her answer.

A butterfly danced across the sky and he heard its wings beat. Then he heard a muffled sound, something that seemed as familiar to him as his own two hands, yet as alien to him as the far side of the Moon. _What was that? What does that mean? Was that a rejection? Acceptance?_ She made that muffled sound again. Overcome with curiosity and the fear of not knowing, as well as the hope that she'll say "I love you too", he found the courage he needed and glanced up shyly through his bangs at her. Her emerald eyes were fixated on him, shining with something like mirth. She smiled at him, tenderly, softly, coyly.

"I love you too." And at that moment, everything in the world just seemed _right_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Evilestguyever: So, sorry for not posting anything for so long. And sorry for not continuing WMM. Just can't seem to write anything good enough. So here's something else. Don't own anything.**

**XXXXXXX**

**Smile**

They – my friends – keep telling me to forgive myself, to try and forget; that she would want me to move on. I can't, because I remember what happened like it was just yesterday, and maybe they do too, but they don't understand.

_Time slows down to a crawl. She's looking at me, eyes wide with fear. His sword isn't pointed at me, no, but I wish it was. It was moments like this that could change everything. He darts forward, fast as a striking viper, intent on taking her life, and time stops, and I see everything clearly, sharply, and I don't believe my eyes. She's afraid?_

My friends tell me that "It happens to the best of us. Everyone of us will meet our end one way or another." They tell me that it was her choice, that it wasn't my fault, that there was nothing I could've done about it, but I know that none of that's true.

The truth is that it was _my _fault. I promised her that I would keep her safe, and it never occurred to me that I could fail. I let my pride drown out her voice. She wouldn't have died if I had just looked harder, deeper, for that little voice in her that cried, "I'm scared. I don't want it to end like this. Stop me. Don't let me go." I was so selfish, so consumed with my problems and feelings that I didn't notice anything else. None of the important things. I didn't realize that she was being brave for us, even when she was the one who should've been the most afraid. She was being optimistic and cheerful for us, trying to be strong for us even when she had her world turned upside down. She smiled for us to keep us going, and I did nothing for her. Nothing. I was so caught up in my own feelings that I never thought about hers. She shouldn't have needed to do all that. She shouldn't have had to look after me. The truth is that it was my fault. I killed her.

She was always thinking about others, and when she turned to look at me that time, eyes wide with fear, it was for us. She was afraid that she was too late; that he might kill us. She was always worrying. I had promised to protect her, but she had protected me instead. She had saved me. I should've been the one to die. If it weren't for me, she would still be alive. If only I had stopped him before, but I was too weak. Too weak to even help myself, let alone protect her.

_Her eyes flicker to some point behind me before returning to me, still full of fear, and this time I see something else in her eyes too, a silent plea to be careful. I smile, wanting to reassure her, but then all I can see is the cold steel sliding through her body. She doesn't make a sound; she just smiles at me before falling gracefully, slowly. For a second, I wonder if he had missed. I start to hope, to believe, to make up little fantasies of reminiscing with her about all this when this is over, when we can laugh it off. But the blood dripping from his blade tells me a different story, and the despair washes over me. Gods, why her? Out of the lot of us, she has the most to live for. The rest of us, we don't have normal lives. We are rebels, warriors, born to fight. Men and women without homes, ready to die on the battlefield. So why? Why her? My mind and heart scream in anger and anguish, but not a peep escapes my lips._

That moment replays itself in my head over and over every time I close my eyes. My friends don't understand. She looked out for me until the end, and I how did I repay her? It was all my fault. There are some things in this world that you can't forgive and forget, and this was one of them. After all, if I forgot, who would be left to remember her smile?


End file.
